


A stranger or some silhouette

by lost_decade



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Formula E RPF
Genre: Airports, Awkwardness, Complicated Relationships, M/M, Moving On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 05:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13287942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_decade/pseuds/lost_decade
Summary: The 'stuck in an airport with your ex and his new boyfriend' fic.





	A stranger or some silhouette

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm very nervous about this but it's written so I thought I may as well post it. 
> 
> Title taken (and altered slightly) from Silhouettes by Aquilo.

_ 27th December. Heathrow Airport _

“So you guys are heading to France then?” Daniel is saying, “hitting the slopes. That’ll be awesome, right. We did some boarding in Colorado just before Christmas, didn’t we.” Daniel nudges Lewis, who is rather sullenly playing with his phone and ignoring the other three people sat at the table as if they aren’t even there. He nods his head and half smiles at Daniel, sinking back into the chair as he glances up at the departure board. 

“We’re heading down towards Chamonix, Jean-Eric’s family have a chalet out there,” Nico says. 

Jev glances up at the mention of his name, not missing the way Daniel flinches just a tiny bit at Nico’s words. He wonders whether that’s due to Nico telling him information that of course he clearly already knows or if it’s perhaps the way that Nico pronounces Jean-Eric’s name in such perfectly accurate French in a way that Daniel never really managed. 

-

Dan nods along overenthusiastically to the conversation, taking a big gulp of his beer as his mind rather mockingly repeats Jev’s name as Nico had said it,  _ Zhonne-Erheek.  _

He could kinda do with some support from Lewis here, if they’re doing this. And why they’re doing this, he honestly doesn’t know - just that when he’d suggested they share a table in the lounge having literally bumped into each other while waiting for their respective delayed flights half an hour ago he hadn’t thought it through properly. And hadn’t thought either that the delay was going to be as ongoing as it now is obviously going to be. He kicks Lewis under the table, the world champion looking at him confusedly and  _ Jesus, Lewis can you not just read my mind for once _ . He hates awkward silences, always has. That’s probably why he blurts out what he says next without even thinking about it. 

-

“Yeah I remember,” Jean-Eric’s voice is tense, he frowns a little, looking at Daniel and then at Lewis before glancing at Nico and then up at the pit of despair that is the departure board. “It was a long time ago though.” 

Why, Jev wonders, why the fuck is Daniel asking him if he remembers the one and only Christmas they spent together, in front of both Nico and Lewis? 

It feels like something out of some awful movie, the four of them stuck here together like this. But of course Dan would say something like that. In so many ways he’s still the same as he always was when they were teenagers, but in others so, so different. Jean-Eric doesn’t want to think about all the differences, all the ways in which they’ve changed into strangers.

“You’re going to Australia?” Jean-Eric asks, in the hope that if he actually tries to make conversation that might stop Dan from continuing down the road of  _ remember when we were close _ that he seems to have started on.

“Yeah, New Years on the beach back home, easing Lewis into it before we catch up with my folks.” 

At this Lewis does finally put his phone down on the table, slinging an arm around Daniel with a smile. 

“Bring it on, man,” Lewis says, touching Daniel’s cheek affectionately. He hasn’t once looked at Nico since they sat down. 

Jev looks between them, whispering something to Nico that Dan doesn’t quite catch before standing up and walking towards the exit of the lounge.

-

Jean-Eric takes his time, wandering out of the first class lounge and through the melee of weary travellers slumped across rows of chairs or sleeping on the floor, backs against walls in hopeful view of the departure boards in the anticipation that at some point any word other than  _ cancelled  _ will form on the display. 

_ Going to find some more information  _ is quite a fruitless task really. It really doesn’t look like they’re getting out of here anytime soon.

He’s not ready for this, if he’s honest. He was still a kid when he got involved with Daniel, barely more than that when he started dating Petra, even as he told himself at the time that he was older and wiser and it could work. Now he’s lived enough and fucked around enough to know that this time, if he’s actually going to go for it with someone - with Nico - then he damn well wants to make a go of it. And a big part of that is taking it slow, learning each other little by little. Not having to suddenly explain their relationship to Daniel, who appears to have rediscovered his own sexuality all of a sudden. 

He ducks into the duty free shop and buys some perfume for his sister and inexplicably a giant bag of mini toblerones before heading back to the lounge and ordering another bottle of wine for the table. If they’re stuck here indefinitely in some kind of nightmare comedy of errors with their exes then they may as well just get fucking drunk. 

-

They used to talk for hours, Daniel remembers as the phone continues to ring, they used to do everything together, like the two of them came as a package - no Dan without Jev and vice versa. Shit, is it too early, he wonders as still no one picks up. He hadn’t even thought about that, just that sitting there with Lewis and Nico was reminding him too much of being in between them in an excruciating press conference so much that the only rational thing to do was to either figure out a way to make Nico leave or to just get up and walk away himself. 

Loitering around the weirdly swanky entrance to the men’s toilets is probably an odd place to make a phone call but he’s pretty sure Jev had gone in the opposite direction so that’s made the decision for him. His mum answers the phone eventually, her voice croaky with sleep and fuck it’s only 5am in Perth isn’t it. Damn. He’ll buy her some flowers at the other side, if they ever actually make it. He relays the delay, trying not to dwell on the disappointment in her voice. They should’ve planned this whole thing better, spaced it out so they had an extra day in Singapore rather than a really short layover with a connection that they’ve already missed. Next time. God, he hopes there’s a next time. He hopes they don’t take each other out in the first race of 2018 and become a mess of seething resentment like the one sitting at the table he’d just left. Or like him and Jev. 

“So if he’s vegan what actually does he eat?” his mum is saying. Oh shit. For some reason this is the first time that Daniel has actually considered what the New Year’s Day meal with his folks is going to be like. 

“He’ll have a bit of fish won’t he?”

Daniel scrubs his free hand through his hair, glancing at a waiter delivering a really pretentious looking plate of food to a lone diner sitting at a table near the exit. She’s blonde, great body hidden beneath an expensively tailored business suit. Why couldn’t he have spotted her first, asked if they could share her table? It’s a nice lounge, would be even nicer if it was a bit less crowded and a bit less, well, up its own ass. 

“Ah, no mum, he doesn’t eat fish. More just like salads and things. Broccoli.” 

For some reason he starts thinking about Wetherspoons. They’d walked past one on the way through the airport and it just reminded him of the time in Milton Keynes when they’d first discovered the ‘Spoons just round the corner from their flat did curry Thursdays and had wound up going there every week for about two months even though it went against every rule of the diets they were supposed to be keeping to. 

It was also really easy to pull in there (okay not so easy after the curry but in general). Daniel grins at the memory of those times, the moments when they’d singled out the same girl – more often than not it was Jev who ended up with her number – French charm and all that, but clearer in Dan’s mind are the times when Jev would say he couldn’t be bothered with the effort, his hand resting lightly on Dan’s thigh as he suggested they just get out of there and make their own entertainment - which more often than not had led to drunkenly making out on the sofa until they both passed out and never ever talking about it after. Sometimes Jev had looked up at him with this expression that Daniel hadn’t really understood at the time, as if he’d been about to say something before thinking better of it and kissing him again instead.

“I guess we'll manage,” his mum is saying. “it's good that you're bringing him to meet us and you know dad's totally fine with it. It took him a while, but it's just like meeting a girlfriend really. You know how he got all stressed about the pool not being cleaned when you first brought Jemma over, but I assured him that meeting your first boyfriend would be fine.” 

“Um yeah mum, really there's no need to fuss, he's…” he'd been about to say that Lewis is just a normal guy but really are any of them that. 

He finishes up the call, promising to let her know when he has any more news about the flight. Something about the conversation sticks in his head though -  _ first boyfriend -  _ he’s never really thought of it in those terms before but he guesses if he’s really honest his actual first boyfriend was probably Jev.    


-

“Are you really just going to sit there and ignore me?” Nico asks, taking a sip of his wine and staring pointedly across the table at Lewis. 

“Not ignoring you, I’m just not sure what it is that you think we have to say to each other. What do you want me to say, Nico?” 

“You won’t be friends, then? Not ever, not even now I’m retired?” 

Lewis sits up a little, glancing out of the window at the snow-covered tarmac, trucks working desperately to clear the runway as still more thick flakes fall from the sky. He can’t wait to feel the heat of the Australian sun on his skin, to be out there with Dan, even the meeting his parents thing isn’t stressing him out the way he thought it would. This is a good solid relationship, even as it’s still in its infancy. Dan is good for him, Dan is gorgeous and fun and Lewis doesn’t want any part of what they have to be tainted by the past. 

It hurts. Seeing Nico with Jean-Eric hurts, seeing Nico happy with someone else. He didn’t miss either the way that Dan had looked at Jean-Eric, with a kind of wistful nostalgia that Lewis has tried to keep wholly absent from his own interactions with Nico since they quite literally bumped into each other at the bar. Ignoring him is easier than telling him the truth: you broke my heart and I’m fighting to recover. 

“I can’t be your friend, you need to accept that. Just stop trying, man.” 

It isn’t in Nico’s nature to give up on things, even things dark and poisonous that have shattered him. He wishes he could reach out and pull the old Lewis back to the surface, the boy he karted with, the man he once loved. He wonders if Lewis has shown that kind, innocent side of himself to Daniel, if the Australian gets to be with  _ that _ Lewis rather than the one who knows how to prey on your deepest insecurities, how to use your doubts against you. If they’d never become teammates would any of that have happened at all? He doesn’t want to be thinking about this really, not now. He glances at his watch. 

“Whatever, Lewis,” he mutters, pulling a magazine out of his bag and turning away. 

-

“Hey, any joy?” 

Jev stops in his tracks halfway across the room, dropping the duty free bag and bending down to retrieve it, finding himself face to face with Daniel. “I was just calling home, telling them about the delays. D’you find anything out?” 

“No. Always the same answer, I went to the information desk but,” Jean-Eric shrugs somewhat dramatically, “I mean, look outside. We’re not getting on our flight soon.” Jev has to suppress a wince at how that sounds, as if they’re together, going to the same place. They should’ve taken the Eurostar, picked up a car in Paris and driven. They’d have been halfway there by now, Nico’s hand resting on his thigh as they drove down through all the pretty towns and vineyards of Burgundy, thinking up pranks to play on Lea and just generally not being anywhere near Dan or Lewis. 

“This sucks, doesn’t it mate,” Daniel replies and Jev isn’t sure which part of it he’s referring to but yes of course, all of it. He nods in agreement. 

“I might go and ---” Dan points in the direction of the bar. 

“I just ordered more drinks, they’re bringing them over.” 

“Right, yeah. Good shout.” Daniel wrings his hands together. “We uh, we had some fun back in the day didn’t we?”

Jean-Eric almost drops the toblerone again in his struggle to remember the fun. It’s there, it’s somewhere buried deep under layers of definitely-not-fun that he’d like to forget all about. He’s tried to forget about it. What does Daniel even mean anyway? Is he referring to the back in the day when they were Red Bull Juniors, when they’d actually conceivably had a nice time of being friends and still felt optimistic about this great adventure they were embarking on - or does he mean the other part? The part where the lines between friendship and something else had melded together in a mess that Jev has never really managed to untangle. 

Sleeping with Daniel had been fun, falling in love had been fun until Jev had realised that it was drowning rather than falling and that there would be no one to catch him at the bottom because he was the only one who wanted it – until Dan had freaked out enough to bring a girl back to the room they were sharing. 

He shudders at the memory of it, sleep feigned in the discomfort of a too short single bed as Daniel had fucked her across the other side of the room, his dirty talk that Jev had always found cheesily endearing now harsh in its filthiness, as if the sheer point was to prove his masculinity, to display what he was and wasn’t. They had never discussed it, but the point had well and truly been communicated. Jean-Eric lost both the Red Bull seat and his heart to the Australian.

“Yeah it was fun,” he says with a sardonic little laugh. “So you decided you like men again now?”

\- 

“We’ve been seeing each other for most of the season,” Dan says, stepping out of the way as a businessman pulling an expensive looking suitcase barrels past them.  “What about you and Nico?”

Jean-Eric glances over at Nico and Lewis, drinking in the stony atmosphere even with the distance of half the room. 

“A few months.” 

“And you're like, public?”

Are they? He's not sure, they haven't talked about it.

“A few people know, not many but it's still a new thing. You didn't answer my question anyway.” 

“What q--oh. I don't know, it's not really like that, we just started hanging out before races and one thing led to another.” He's almost squirming in the face of Jean-Eric’s hard stare. It makes Jev feel kind of bad, but really, Lewis, of all people. Maybe it's just world champions that really do it for Dan, but then the parallels with his own situation dawns on him and it would be almost funny if they weren't all in the same room as each other. 

“I miss you sometimes, y’know,” Daniel blurts out. Jev wants to echo the sentiment, but you can never go back to being the person you were before and come to think of it, Jev is now pretty certain he doesn't want to.

-

“How did you two even wind up together anyway?”

Nico looks up from his magazine, confused for a second until he remembers that there's only so long Lewis can go without making some sort of disparaging comment. 

“I went to a race, we got talking afterwards, had dinner a few times.” 

Lewis frowns, nodding thoughtfully in that way of his that Nico has annoyingly never quite been able to crack. 

“That how you got a start in F1 too?” he says jokingly. Nico pretends the implication doesn't hurt, tries not to wince when he gives himself a papercut from gripping the edge of the magazine excessively tightly. 

“I'm going to pretend you didn't say that.” he knows that Lewis is just bored and trying to toy with him, but there's low and there's Lewis. He knows that if he loses his temper then Lewis will consider it a victory.

“I'm happy for you, that you met someone. If you can't be pleased for me then don't be, Lewis. It's not something that's going to bother me either way.” 

“I couldn't give a shit what you do, man,” Lewis replies, going back to his phone. 

-

_ Please come back here soon. I can't be alone with him. Where the fuck are u? _

Daniel reads the text quickly before shoving his phone back in his pocket. 

“It was a lot of time we spent together,” Jev acquiesces. He’d been about to say it back,  _ I miss you too.  _ But honestly, the truth is that he doesn't miss Daniel. Not really. Not anymore. 

“Yeah it was.”

_ I think I loved you -  _ Dan's brain urges him to say. He guesses he did really, looking back on it now.

“So I'm gonna head back to Lewis,” he tells him instead. 

-

The fog is so dense that nothing is visible beyond the vast panes of glass that make up one side of the lounge, the murky darkness of the freezing fog obscuring any aircraft that might be optimistically preparing for flight. All Nico can see are the blinking lights of safety vehicles through crystal swirls of ice and part of him wonders if this will ever end, if they’re just fated to see in the new year at Heathrow with Lewis and Daniel. His breath clouds the glass, the beginnings of a headache pulsing just above his left eye. There’s the warmth of someone’s hand on his shoulders then, Jean-Eric’s strong fingers working at the knots in his muscles. He leans back, crowded safely into the warmth of Jean-Eric’s body. 

“What happened?” Jev asks. “You weren't there when I got back to the table.” 

“Lewis was trying to get under my skin and it, well I guess I let him. Fuck, Jean-Eric, there are five terminals – how are we so unlucky to wind up in the same place as them?” Nico uncharacteristically panics a bit halfway through his sentence. What if Jev is happy that Daniel’s here, what if it reminds him of all the good times they had together. Shit. 

“We could go back to London,” Jev suggests, his lips at Nico’s neck warm and familiar but a slight tension straightening his posture at the mention of their fellow stranded companions. If they go back to London then the chances of getting on the first flight out of here are vastly reduced and Nico knows how much it means to Jev to spend New Year’s with his family. 

The thought of going back to the Knightsbridge apartment and getting under the covers with Jean-Eric is vastly more appealing than being here but on a practical note there’s no food in the fridge and how long would it even take to get there anyway in these conditions. Nico frowns at Jev’s reflection in the window as he reaches for his phone, pulling up the latest traffic news. 

“As much as I don’t want to be here indefinitely I also really don’t want to be stuck on the M25. At least we have a table, and the bar is open. And you’re here.” He turns in Jean-Eric’s arms, brushing their lips together briefly and hoping - not because he’s trying to make Lewis jealous because that would imply some kind of continued affection, but dammit he’s happy and fuck Lewis for being such a dick about it all, he wants him to know - that their former teammates are looking over. 

“We could check out the hotels, see if they have any space at the Hilton.” 

“I’ll go,” Nico tells him, “you stay with the bags, make sure he doesn’t plant any contraband in my suitcase.” 

\- 

“I got caught up talking to mum, sorry.” Daniel slips into the chair beside Lewis, reaching for his hand beneath the table. Lewis nestles a little closer to him, resting his head against Dan's shoulder and enjoying the closeness, the warmth of the Australian’s body. 

“It's okay. I guess I let it get to me, him being here, seeing him.”

Fuck, why did he have to be here, why now, Lewis thinks. He's done such a good job of avoiding Nico all year only to fail at the final hurdle. 

“Yeah it's weird I know. I can't get my head around them being together.”

“You don't still…” Dan begins. 

“No. No way man, I love you. Just, it's tough that's all. Seeing him.” Lewis doesn’t still love him. Not - not how he used to before. It’s not that, really. It’s the abandonment, the being left time and time again until Lewis was sure it must be him. 

He can win races - he can’t make people happy. 

Can he? 

Daniel has told him otherwise, keeps telling him. It’s in his eyes whenever they kiss, when they fall asleep in each other’s arms after a good race, a bad race. He gulps down some more red wine and tells the voice in his head to shut the fuck up. Daniel hasn’t been talking to Jev, Jev hasn’t been relaying anything from Nico, warning the Australian that no good can ever come of getting involved with him. 

People leave, they leave enough that it must be Lewis’ fault. He must make them. His grip tightens on Daniel’s hand, as if he’ll slip away if he lets go. 

“Love you too,” Dan whispers in his ear. “Everything’s cool, we’ll be on the other side of the world soon.” 

“Yeah, yeah we will.” 

-

“We managed to get a hotel room,” Nico picks up his carry-on bag from where it’s unfortunately resting next to Lewis’ foot. “It was the last one at the Hilton but I overheard someone say they might have a few left at the Mercure if you guys wanted to give it a go.” 

He looks at Daniel while he speaks, resisting the urge to see if Lewis is even looking at him. 

“Cool, yeah we might wait it out here a bit longer,” Daniel stands, walking around Lewis and giving Nico a pat on the back. “Have a good New Year guys, hope you make it out of here soon.” 

He moves to Jean-Eric then, hands brushing in a stumbling handshake that turns into an almost hug. 

“See you, Lewis,” Jean-Eric raises his hand in a small wave that Lewis mirrors, about to turn away and surprised when Lewis actually gets up and hugs him. 

Nico looks around, waiting while Jean-Eric shrugs his coat on and grabs his bags, waiting awkwardly, wondering when the next time he’ll see Lewis will be, wondering if he’ll ever see Lewis. 

Their eyes meet briefly, brown and blue.  _ This is my best friend, Lewis.  _ Nico remembers, that one time he’d introduced him to his grandma. Nico looks away, body jolting in surprise when Lewis touches his arm, embracing him so briefly, so bruisingly tightly. “Nico,” he says softly before stepping back, not finishing it with anything else. 

They stand there for a moment, the four of them looking between each other, Nico’s hand in Jean-Eric’s and Daniel’s arm around Lewis’ waist. It doesn’t seem so long ago to Nico that this was all the opposite way around, their lives merging and drifting with time. There’s a sadness that settles under his skin, yet Jev’s thumb is tracing circles on the back of his hand and the sorrow sinks a little beneath a bold layer of hope. 

“Goodbye, Dan,” Jev says as they walk turn to walk away.

Daniel’s arm slips away from Lewis for a moment, as if he's being drawn towards the Frenchman by some invisible force. 

“Yeah, see you.”

– 

“Do you think there’s room service in this hotel,” Jev wonders aloud as they make their way through the terminal building, weaving their way through the masses. 

“There is, I pre-ordered actually, there should be some champagne already waiting for us too.” 

Jean-Eric smiles wickedly at the memory of the last time they had room service, the wine dizzying him along with the thought of it. “Let’s hope they have soundproofing in the room then, yes.” 

Nico lets his free hand brush ever so accidentally against the perfect curve of Jean-Eric’s arse as they wait in the line to check in. 

\-  

Lewis feels his whole body sag in relaxation the moment him and Daniel are alone again, the fog in his mind clearing even as outside there’s little change to the weather. 

“You okay?” Daniel asks, squeezing Lewis’ arm. 

“Yeah, yeah I am.” It’s been on his mind for a while, even though it probably comes out like a snap decision.  “I was thinking I might retire at the end of the year actually.” 

Daniel's eyes widen. “Then we wouldn’t ever be teammates,” he frowns. 

“No, no we wouldn’t,” Lewis replies, leaning in for a kiss that lingers.   
  



End file.
